


Fire Escapes and Fiascos | Frerard |

by ThePunkVampire



Category: frerard - Fandom
Genre: 1990's, 90'S, Artist!Gerard - Freeform, FIATC, Fire, Fire Escapes, Fluff, Frank Iero & the Patience, Lower East Side, M/M, Musician!Frank, Neighbours, New York City, Pencey Prep - Freeform, Photographer!Frank, Upper West Side, art gallery, fiatp - Freeform, fire escape, gallery, grunge movement, not slow burn, taking it slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 02:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11773461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePunkVampire/pseuds/ThePunkVampire
Summary: The hustle and bustle of the up and coming bands stormed New York City in 1990's, mostly coming in from Seattle or California, and Gerard, well, he got whisked away by it. One thing lead to another and here he was, living in New York as best he could with anxiety that went through the roof and the one thing keeping him sane was his bedroom fire escape and a pack of Marlboro's.•   •   •The music scene boomed and swirled around Frank and he couldn't get enough. He threw himself into new projects, new sounds, heartbreak, and of course a horrendous gash just below the knee but nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the time he broke into his neighbours apartment one fine evening.





	1. Chapter 1

New York was busy, crowded, and either a steady cold or far too warm thanks to its towering buildings and vast amount of concrete that would heat up the city like an oven would warm up the bread you wanted to bite into. The towering skyscrapers and apartment buildings would encase the heat and it held a heavy toll on the people who resided within the confinements of New York City. There wasn't a way around it save staying hydrated or incredibly ridiculous amounts of air conditioning. Maybe an ice bath would have been a better solution.

  
Gerard Way, in short, was one of those people who dealt with the New York heat, and this year in particular it was far worse than any other. The heat blazed on in mid October, keeping a steady temperature of 24 degrees Celsius but the air hung humid and sticky, and though the summer stuck in the high 30's, the October heat wasn't one Gerard could beat. Not only that but he couldn't afford the lavish apartments or the luxurious blasts of cold air that the air conditioning could offer him. He had it running during the summer months but was mindful that at night he could crack a window open and get a cool breeze to flow through his flat. He wasn't frugal, and he wasn't cheap. He saved every penny and then spent it all on taxes, rent, some food, and of course supplies for his unsteady job. He didn't have a lot coming in for him typically, but when he did he only saved what remained for really important things. Extra necessities if you will, but the man rarely indulged. He still had a bottle of wine from his parent's visit from last October, and if ever someone were to visit all he asked of them was a bottle of either Merlot or Chardonet. Sometimes he'd spice it up and ask for Pignot Noir but that was a rare case despite his love laying with it. In very special circumstances he'd ask for an expensive wine by the name of Dingać. It was fruity but the bitter taste quickly faded on the tongue and almost turned sweet. He particularly liked the one that wasn't as dry. He also lived alone which didn't help his cause. Alone in New York City was a recipe for screwing oneself over unless they had a high paying job, which Gerard didn't by any means. On this particular October night, the man hung by his windowsill while chain smoking Marlboro cigarettes and hoping to god that the heat would end but also loving the moment he was in.

  
Gerard was completely entranced and he spent a good portion of his time with his head out the window and out in the fire escape. This was just outside his own bedroom, and he didn't question the odd placement, but rather relished in it. He had his own privacy, if anyone where to set the building on fire in the night he could escape. He didn't lock the windows at night and there was no reason that anyone would break into his apartment. The neighbourhood was good but not rich, lavish, or even remotely upper middle class. If anything, it was lower middle class to near poor but the apartments were old and beautiful. One of the reasons the price was low was mostly because the upper class found the neighbourhood too old looking, another was that the power would often go out and was of no use to those very rich big accountants and lawyers. Besides, those assholes had the business district. This wasn't SoHo or even the Meatpacking district. It was somewhere on the lower east side, near bordering the upper east side, but also in the very corner of the upper west side, almost in the area but never quite reaching it.

  
So the pasty man blew smoke rings out his window, elbows gently folded over the dove grey windowsill, and cigarette between his long and slender index and middle finger. His eyelids heavy with sleep and hair matted but in a charming and boyish manner. It was almost as if he had just made it out of bed, but barely so. His black hair hung in his face and he admired its length. It was finally the way he wanted it to be. When he lived at home, it was always short haircuts and they bothered him. His mother was a neat and proper Jersey woman who never let Gerard's locks fall beneath his eyebrows. Always above, never below. It was to see his beautiful eyes, she claimed but really it was because his long hair drove her up the wall. As a teenager, he'd let it go slightly and now, now it was perfect. If his bangs were to fall in his face they reached his nose but with a nice sideways sweep they tucked just right and fell out of his face. Now, Gerard wasn't exactly a normal man for his time. On this particular night he chose to wear a black lace bralette and of course, a black pair of shorts with a flannel over top, unbuttoned and worn out. He was a man of particularly feminine tastes but it only reflected while he relished in his own spare time. It was never public and wouldn't be. Dresses on men were things that were still strange but came to be more accepted through Kurt Cobain and Bowie but it wasn't a normal occupancies by any means. Gerard didn't wear dresses though, he opted for lace bralettes and he loved them because they were simple but artistic at the same time.

  
Haphazardly splayed across the room were canvases, beautiful and covered in all sorts of art forms. Human bodies painted to anatomical proportions, close ups of flowers, and even abstract pieces. He sometimes made mixed media pieces that turned out far more beautiful than ever and when he had guests they would always gaze at it and ask where he had bought it. He bashfully had to explain himself to them that it was his artwork at which their eyes nearly flew out of their heads. Most were mind blowing but Gerard would never have believed it had it been said to him. He painted those for pleasure mainly but the ones he painted for work were at a studio that he split rent for with his brother. Either that or painted onto the walls in people's homes which was what kept Gee living in the apartment he currently resides in.  
His brother wasn't an artist by any means, but he did come and go when he needed quiet time or just to practice his bass playing. It was a large room and had much space when kept clean and so the two shared. Right beside Gerard's feet was a painting of a rose he'd been working on, oil paints being more globby than usual, and his style being experimented with slowly but surely.

'One last Marlboro, Gee, and then bed.' He thought to himself as he puffed on his cancer stick. 'Just the one, then pull out your sketchbook, let yourself write ideas, and get them out when you wake. Simple. You have to get to work.' But of course nothing could ever be that simple when it came to Gerard and his artistic mannerisms, he worked best between the hours of 2am and 5am and then would promptly crash until 9am. He reached for his coffee- because coffee and cigarettes were the ultimate pairing along with a good book of course. After taking a nice long drag, and blowing the blue tinted smoke out from his lungs and into the open city air, he then took a full gulp his coffee but promptly grimaced as he realised it had gotten slightly colder than he was used to. No matter though. He remained on his windowsill, eyes closed, coffee in hand, and his Marlboro cigarette between his lips. He knew the smoking was far from healthy, but it was hard to kick old habits. A small laugh, more so like a sharp exhale, escaped the raven haired man, he was an artist in New York, and actually getting by. Gerard swayed gently, making up songs in his head, smiling fondly to himself for the first time in a very long time. He wrote lyrics, lots of them, and the pages were splayed across his floor and over his pillows. He was currently humming, and slowly progressing into singing a song he called 'Don't Try'. The man was so lost in his mind, the gears spinning and turning quickly, that he failed to notice that a man, short in stature, incredibly attractive physically found himself swinging in through the window to the right of him, cursing himself quietly as he slammed his knee into the window sill before smoothly slipping in.

_"Shit."_


	2. Chapter 2

Frank wandered the streets of New York City after his gig with his new band. His former band, Pencey Prep, had broken up and now Frank has a new one going for him. It had been about two years since they formed but they were good and capturing the attention of the younger crowd. The sound bordered punk and grunge altogether but it was its own. It was unique and brought forth a wave of exhilaration to the crowds and it certainly helped that grunge was worming its way into the limelight. 

The tattooed man was too busy humming to himself and carrying his beloved guitar Pansy with him to notice that once he got to his apartment complex, he had missed his fire escape by one and had gone up the one belonging to his neighbour. His neighbour was a looker for sure, jittery, but Frank hadn't been a stranger to how beautiful the man was. Mindlessly, Frank started to run up the fire escape only to trip and cut his leg on a loose piece of metal. He cursed himself silently and picked right back up.

 _'I don't remember that being there_.' He thought to himself but shrugged it off quickly. Once he got to the very top, he noticed, but only barely, a good amount of plants, slightly more than he had on his but either way jumped through the left most window, knowing it was open as he had left it so. He slammed his knee well and good into the grey window sill and hissed in pain before grabbing Pansy's case and bringing her into the room with him as he slid in with a natural grace but soon enough he realised that he had broken into someone's apartment. With a look to his right, he hissed out one single word.

" _Shit_."

This is the one word that brought Gerard back into reality. Frank noticed his neighbour and stopped humming and snapped his head over to look at him, eyes blown wide in shock. There was a long pause and it was hard to form any coherent sentence in the moment. Frank was the one to break it, just barely, and his voice cracking in the process.

"Uh, hello?" The words came out more of a question than a statement and his cheeks flared with a famous red colour of sheer embarrassment. Had a makeup company named the shade, it probably would have been called ' _Earth Swallowing Embarrassment_ '. He slowly reached for the window frame and felt around gently before pushing himself to it.

"Hey." Gerard blushed and ducked, tucking stray hairs behind his ear. He bit his lip before and just as he was about to speak, Frank stopped him.

"I- I guess I should-" it was Gerard's turn to stop the tattooed man. He was damned if he would let Frank get away that easily.

"Leaving so soon?" He questioned. "It's fine, don't worry. It's late and uh- your shin is bleeding." He reasoned. Yeah, that's why he wanted Frank to stay, so that he could take care of him and ensure he wasn't mugged. The truth was since Frank moved in Gerard had been quietly pining over him. Of course, Gerard always made small gestures at first, but then he altogether avoided Frank, and truth be told Frank avoided Gerard because he was so fearful he would say something god awful or embarrassing.

"It's fine, I'll just," and as soon as Frank moved the pain registered and he hissed to himself, "shit!" He couldn't believe he had felt fine mere minutes ago. It was apparent that Frank wouldn't be going anywhere, not if you asked Gerard.

"No you're not, come on, I'll help you to the bed." Gerard blushed and looked away, allowing his raven hair to cascade into his face. He put his arm under Frank's left arm and over his right shoulder, while Frank gripped Gerard's right shoulder for stability. The pair slowly made their way over to Gerard's bed and plopped down in it. "I'm going to get some supplies, just sit tight and if you can, it would be useful if you could take your pants off. If not, just roll up your pant leg." The artist instructed quickly.

"Isn't it a little soon to ask me to take my pants off? I mean, you haven't even asked me on a date." Frank joked while letting out a pot giggle. This sound had made Gerard melt absolutely but his face grew hot with embarrassment.

"You know what I mean..." He mumbled and went off to the washroom to grab his first aid kit. It sat untouched under the sink in the small cabinet where he mostly kept cleaning supplies and several boxes of band-aids. He never seemed to have any when he needed them so he might as well stock up. He grabbed the red bag and pulled it out with some excessive force as he tried to distract himself from the man in his bedroom. He mentally kicked himself for it in the moment but who knew that he would be thanking his fire escape, his mother, the gods, whatever being was out there for having Frank jump through his window. As he jogged out to where Frank was he noticed the younger had rolled his pant leg up. He could very well say there was a twinge of disappointment but Frank's best interests were at hand at the moment. Gerard was greeted with a shit eating grin from the punk and he nearly melted. There was so much perfect about him that there had to be a fault somewhere. Maybe he wasn't a feminist, maybe he was straight? The last one had to be it.

"Hey there, have a good run?" The tattooed man joked with him. Gerard laughed gently and sat next to Frank clumsily. "I'm kidding, so what procedure will need to be done, doctor?" Frank half purred and the elder stiffened slightly before relaxing.

"I'll need to clean the wound first, so I'll apply rubbing alcohol to the cut, I'll then apply some cream to it just so it can heal quicker, and I'll wrap it in some gauze. Not too much because we want your wound to be able to breathe some but I'll change the gauze for you and such periodically." Frank nodded along to what the artist was saying, focusing on what was about to happen and not the room around him. Though it was beautiful he had barely had the time to register it.

"I'm ready! I'll be a champ." This threw the two men into some giggles before Gerard got to work. He unscrewed the cap to the frosted bottle of rubbing alcohol and gently wet a cotton pad before warning Frank it would sting. With that, he went to work cleaning the wound out. A small and barely audible hiss came from the tattooed punk as Gerard first touched the wound but other than that, Frank was used to this. He watched intently as the man before him tended to his wound and his heart grew warm due to it. Such a loving nature was one he hadn't received in several years.   
Once Gerard had finished up, Frank bend his knee and while it stung, seeing as the wound was just below it, it certainly wasn't as bad and painful as when he had initially registered any pain. He smiled fondly and warmly at the kindness of this stranger- his neighbour.

"Holy fuck, thank you..." And with that, his excitement faded as quickly as it had come. How could he have forgotten to ask for the man's name? After all, he had broken into his home, got fixed up, and didn't know his name.

"Gerard Way. You can call me Gee though. Only if you want. I don't want to force you to or anything." He stumbled over his words and blushed.

"Well, thank you so much. I'm Frank. Frank Iero. I think we're neighbours." He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. He bit his lip and swallowed hard before choosing to lay down on the comfortable bed. "Is this okay?" He earned a small smile and a nod.

"Yeah yeah, whatever you want. I- I know we're neighbours though." The tall artist smiled fondly and chose to lay down next to Frank. The two men stared at the ceiling for a little while before the shorter broke the silence.

"So Gee, what do you do?" The question was asked in a nonchalant manner. The answer to the question wasn't as simple as one might like it to be but it was what it was.

"I uh- I paint. I mainly paint for myself but it's my job as well. I actually paint murals in people's homes, and I've sold my paintings before too. It's alright. It gets me by. I have enough for food, rent, and some supplies. I've resorted to second-hand shops for clothing though." Gerard sighs gently and thinks about the life he lives. It's true. He makes enough for food, thank god he's vegan, and just enough for rent. He has his art supplies and he always sets something aside for it. Clothes are a luxury most of the time but when it's a really good month or two he goes and buys some shirts or pants. This year he bought a really lovely pea coat from the thrift store and it proved to be quite warm during the brutal and cold winter.

"So you're a starving artist? Mmm," Frank hummed gently before turning and looking to the raven haired man with big hazel eyes, "how attractive. I've always been drawn to that type." And with a small shift in the bed and the punk scooting closer, Gerard shivered. "There has to be more to you." A knot formed in the elder's stomach and his breathing deepened as his heart hammered in his chest and then proceeded to drop into his stomach.

"Well, I sing a little. My friend has a band and I'll fill in from time to time. They're getting bigger and I'm getting busier so it doesn't work out sometimes but when it does they pay me whatever. I insist they don't but who the fuck's gonna listen?" Gerard laughed and reached over to his nightstand blindly. He picked up a package of Marlboro's, "You don't mind do you?" He asked the shorted and Frank answered no. Gerard stuck the cigarette between his lips and lit it with elegance and grace that one can't begin to describe. It was a fluid motion, perfected like a masterpiece. He felt he needed to light a cigarette because he had dropped his previous one onto the fire escape when Frank came in. "Want one?" He asked from the side of his mouth and directed his gaze to Frank who was watching the former mans lips with intent.

"I'd love one." He mindlessly spoke. As Gerard began to pull one out of the package, Frank plucked the cigarette from between Gerard's lip, feeling bold, and stuck it between his own. He took a good long drag and sighed out the blue grey smoke. As this was done, Gee nearly choked on his own spit. This man took his breath away and swept Gerard into some magical and wonderful world that he was unaware of previously. "Thanks for the offer." Frank winked.

"Alright Frank, since you're so frank, why don't you tell me what you do?" Gerard pushed. Frank's lips curled into a smile and his reply came with ease.

"I play in a band. Everyone said I wouldn't make shit off of that but we play a show nearly every night. Money's alright I guess. Depends on the venue and what band we open for obviously but it's good shit. Man, I'm so fucking into it. It's like I get to be this whole other person up there!" He talked out the side of his mouth until Gee took his cigarette back but even then Frank didn't stop. As he explained he used his hands excessively but it was endearing. "It's a way to get away from the shit show around you but because of the boom in grunge and rock, we're getting up there. Not like Nirvana up there. It'll never be that, but it's so cool going to the grocery store and some kid coming up to you and just being like 'hi, I saw your band a few weeks ago, pretty good shit'." Frank then turned on his side so he could watch Gerard smoke. He decided it was one of his favourite things. Gerard took long drags but made them effortless. The smoke curled from his cigarette and around him creating an angelic and cancerous haze. The cancer stick was stuck between his lips but rested lazily on his bottom lip while it wasn't neatly tucked between his pale skeletal fingers. He blew smoke out through his mouth or nose and it gently floated up in a stream instead of a giant puff.

"Yeah, you guys are fucking good. I hear you practice all the fucking time. You're a screamer I see." He sent Frank a suggestive wink and the younger nearly died from the sheer horror of what the statement entailed. "Hey, chill, I meant in your band but I guess we'll have to see won't we?" A chuckle escaped the artist. He was slowly gaining his confidence back and he was enjoying it. It was easy to speak to Frank and it wasn't at all what he expected. Where did his anxiety go, and could it stay away? "What else do you do?"

"I uh- I do photography!" The punk squeaked out. He didn't mean for it to come out that way but usually, he was the one doing the flirting and not the other man. "Yeah, yeah. Lots of film uh- I do take Polaroids, I suppose that's film too but that's instant. I like developing my own film." He went on to say. "It's calming and it's usually street or concert photography but I think I just found my favourite subject." He tried out and it worked. Gerard felt the bats in his stomach wake and he tilted his head back slightly more, taking a much longer drag and blowing the smoke out from his mouth with a gentle groan.

"Why don't you photograph it then?" He coyly suggested and closed his eyes as if trying to hide his vulnerability. He didn't dare turn to Frank.

"I haven't had the opportunity to yet. It keeps slipping through my fingers." The tattooed man reached out but retracted his inked hand before he managed to touch Gerard. "Besides, I wouldn't be able to capture such a thing of beauty."

"That's a load of shit and we both know it. You would do great." Gerard smiled and sighed out in contentment. "Either way, I'm sure your subject wouldn't mind." He gently urged.

"Who knows." Frank sullenly spoke and a tinge of sadness pooled into his eyes and casting away the golden sparkle they possessed. Gerard noticed the shift in mood and turned while taking a drag.

"Stay the night. It's getting late." His tone was pleading and sincere. He wanted Frank around more than anything. Maybe it was the flirting, maybe it was the talking. It could be anything really but he knew he was drawn to Frank. Despite Gerard's intentions and meaning behind the words, Frank felt his heart sink slightly. He didn't want to spend the night just because it was getting late. He wanted to spend the night because he enjoyed the company of the man he was drawn to.

"It's best I get out of your hair now. I've caused you enough of a shit show, I mean, breaking into your apartment? Not really good meeting the family material." He let the last bit slip and Gerard choked on the smoke he was about to blow out.

"You're not a burden Frank!" He exclaimed as he sat up. "I want you here. Please stay they night, borrow a shirt. I'll make us coffee and if you want I can bring out some dark chocolate." He jumped to his feet and ran a hand through his hair as he ran around the mess that was his room in an attempt to find Frank a shirt. "Please." He begged and Frank too sat up, his shaggy brown hair sticking out in a few different directions.

"I don't know, are you sure?" He felt that he was coming back to his old self; uneasy and unsure about every situation. He sucked his lip ring into his mouth and gently chewed it which Gerard hadn't seen. Had he seen it he might have had a heart attack and dropped dead, or quite possibly might have lunged towards Frank and taken his face and kissed him. Instead, Gerard waved his hand dismissively.

"Yeah yeah, I wouldn't offer it if I wasn't sure." He fished out a Misfits shirt and tossed it to the punk who caught it mid air. "I don't have anything else that wouldn't be oversized for you... And I don't have PJ bottoms. Sorry." He shrugged and gently made his way over to Frank.

"This is perfect, and my favourite band. You didn't tell me you had a kick ass music taste, asshole." Frank quickly bounced back from any hurt he felt and got up with little trouble. "Washroom?" He asked.

"Right here!" Gerard pointed to the left of his bedroom door. "It's not the cleanest so just excuse the paints." He blushed and ducked, finishing his cigarette in a few puffs and he put it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. Frank laughed and walked right in, closing the door behind him. He noticed there was barely a mess, to begin with. The shower was right in front of him, the tub was off white with black tiling on the wall and the sink was an off white as well. The wall as a dove grey and the floor was composed of stormy grey tiles with white speckles littered across them. The towels were either black or white and right beside the sink on a metal towel rack. The toilet was across from the sink and to Frank's right. He smiled as he saw a few tubes of paint on the sink and littered on the floor. He shut the door behind him with a click and began to change.   
Gerard in the other hand was content on his bed. One arm tucked comfortably behind his head and the other splayed across his stomach. The only thing different was that he had taken his bralette off while Frank had gone to change. His eyes were shut and he breathed in the remainder of the smoke. He felt bad only giving Frank a few drags but he would light another cigarette if the younger wanted it. Gee's thoughts wandered to the small man, his laugh was infectious and his eyes were ones that he could stare at all day. He wanted to paint them indefinitely but knew he couldn't. He thought of the younger being with him and teaching him some things about film photography, maybe even the two living together as a couple. He wanted to be with Frank since the moment he had laid eyes on him but it wasn't something he wanted to rush into.

"What are you thinking about?" Frank's voice piped up and Gerard's head shot over to look to him. He was wearing the baggy Misfits shirt, boxers, and was casually leaning against the door frame, tattoos on full display, or so Gerard thought.

"Oh uh-" a deep blush tinted the cheeks of the starving artist and he couldn't form a sentence, "nothing really..."

"Liar," Frank was blunt even if it wasn't exactly the most appropriate thing to say to someone he had met only a little bit ago, "your lazy smile gives you away. Who's got you star struck?" He teased and pushed off the door frame. "Don't bother denying there's someone."

"Okay fine. There's this one friend and he's just everything. You know when you look at someone and your heart swells and with every word you fall more and more in this- this love?" Gerard gestured with his free hand only to earn a nod and a smile from Frank. "It's like- in such a short amount of time they became my muse and I can't get them out of my head and I want to take things slowly because we recently met through a friend but shit Frank, they're amazing. They send shivers down my spine. It's never the same and it's intense. From the moment I laid my eyes on them and to this day." He rambled whilst his eyes glazed over with love and affection.

"I know. Trust me I do. I just hope you tell them. It would be a shame if you didn't. They're lucky." Frank offered and repressed the giddy emotion and the thought that Gerard could be talking about him. They didn't meet through a friend though which was the one fault.   
Hazel eyes flicked over Frank longingly and landed on his face. Gerard couldn't help it, Frank was so close but far too distant and he wanted him closer. The punk held this energy that made Gerard want to say "fuck it" and throw his morals out the door and made the bats in his stomach go wild. The energy Frank possessed made Gerard want to pull him on top and kiss him, wrestle with him, and laugh with him all at once.

"Frank," Gerard began softly and with a loving tone but was cut short.

"You said something about coffee right?" Frank waltzed out into the living room and grinned gently, teasing the older man. Whether Gerard intended it or not, Frank was going to get what he wanted. The thought of his plan unfolding made excitement pool inside of him and he had to close his eyes just to bring himself off of cloud nine. He was done waiting and running, he wanted what he wanted. It wasn't lust and he knew that much despite barely knowing Gerard personally. He knew the kind of person Gerard was just from the things he had done for Frank this evening. Frank ventured to the coffee machine and waited for the man with the dark locks to show.   
Gerard slowly walked over, a pit in his stomach and hair wild, he smiled when he saw where Frank was. The kitchen was hard to miss and so was the coffee machine.

"The coffee is in the jar labelled coffee." He reads and grabs the jar, opening it and scooping out some of the grinds. He placed it into the coffee machine. "I always replace the filter after I use the machine. Just a healthy habit when you're a coffee addict." And so he added the water and started the machine. "Can you grab two mugs, they're in the cabinet in the corner there." He blindly pointed. Perfect. Frank did as Gerard instructed but instead of opting for normal, he wrapped his arms around Gerard, hugging him from behind as he placed the mugs on the counter.

"I can do anything you want." He spoke into the taller mans back, lips barely brushing against the flannel he was wearing. He felt Gerard shudder this time and he swore he heard a small noise slip past Gerard's lips. The effect he desired to have on the other man was clearly in play. Then he pulled away as if nothing happened and asked if there was anything else that needed to be done but while looking over his neighbour he debated asking if something was wrong. He had his eyes closed tight, and his knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped the edge of the counter. His teeth sank into his bottom lip which was becoming visibly red the longer he kept his teeth clamped into it.

"It's okay." Gerard breathed out in a stutter and pressed closer to the counter, grabbing a mug and sticking it on the small platform on the coffee maker. "I think I'm good." Gerard was tempting. Just a kiss, a touch, it would certainly give Frank a high or a fever but he wasn't sure which.

"Maybe over coffee I can show you my tattoos if you like. To break the ice? They're pretty personal so it's like getting to know me better than I know myself." Frank piped up. His plan was slowly working. He hadn't expected it to be so effective so soon. Gerard nodded at the suggestion and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.   
After they had finished making coffee, or rather Gerard had, he led them back to his room. No sense staying in the living room if the man had already seen the unseen. He never imagined anyone seeing his room, not even Frank but that plan was clearly thrown out the window. Oh- sorry, broke out the window.

"Alright, I'll start. Why the fuck do you have Halloween tattooed onto your knuckles? That some sort of unrequited love with the holiday?" Gerard teased. He loved Frank's tattoos. They were intricate and incredible. The pigment was intense but slightly worn out.

"It's my birthday actually, but I do have a love for the holiday. I blast the Misfits the whole day. It's too good. And if I clasp my hands like this," he let his fingers overlap and the word ' _Bookworm_ ' assembled before Gerard's eyes, "see? I got it because I love reading. It's one of my favourite pastimes other than writing music. Catcher In the Rye is probably my favourite book." And so Frank gestured wildly to some tattoos and Gerard asked about some others. The two wound up with a shirtless Frank, a gaping Gerard, and of course a lot of tension. They made heart eyes at each other every time they glanced over that it got to the point where it became sickening.

"This is amazing. I like the noodle on your knee by the way." At that Frank let out a snort.

"Way to choose the weirdest and least artistically enticing tattoo on my body." Frank let out and ran a hand through his hair. He bit back a remark he'd been dying to let out.

"What?" Gerard asked out of curiosity and prayed Frank would answer him with something that wasn't a brush off. In that moment, Frank shuffled over and sat beside his neighbour on the bed, laying his leg against Gerard's.

"I can think of something more enticing than any tattoo on my body." He whispered hoarsely into the raven haired artists ear. He saw the shudder and felt a trickle of a shiver run down his spine.

"And what's that?" Gerard inquired without an iota of hesitance. Frank raised his eyebrow at this question as if he didn't understand what was being asked.

"You're going to need to get it out of me." The shorter challenged. He wanted his way and was determined to get it but he didn't want to be wrong in his assumption. Gerard then leaned forward after placing his coffee on the nightstand and doing the same to Frank's. He placed his hand on his neighbour's chest and pushed him down onto the bed sheets.

"Am I now?" He teased and a playful smirk landed itself on his face. Frank's smirk faded as Gerard grew and he placed a chaste kiss upon his neighbour's neck. "I don't know Frank, I don't think I need to do too much." Another kiss was placed upon Frank's tattooed skin but this time in the crook of his neck but Gerard then pulled away quickly and practically ripped himself away from Frank. "I can't." He muttered and reached for his crutch; his pack of Marlboro's that laid on his night desk. "I can't. I'm sorry." He lit one anxiously and started pacing. Frank then sat up and ran a hand through his hair while sighing. Just a moment ago he had been high off of the feeling of Gerard's lips connecting to his skin and now he was crashing and burning. "I can't. Frank, don't get me wrong I want to and I want you to enjoy it and I- I can't jump into something. I'm not that person. I don't rush things like this." Gee rambled and Frank listened despite his heart sinking.

"And that friend?" Frank's voice wavered but barely. He wanted to make sure it was him and not a stranger. Gerard kept pacing and chewing his lip gently. "The friend you are falling for?"

"Frank that friend... Jesus Christ... No, I wouldn't rush anything with him. That's- I don't want to rush anything." Gerard paced like a mad man, completely oblivious to the fact that Frank was onto him. The near kisses, the flirting, the brushing of one's lips on the other's neck. It gave the two away very quickly. "Frank, I can't rush it." He stopped abruptly. "Fuck- I- I barely know you! I just met you!" He exclaims in protest even though Frank hadn't given anything to protest to.

"But you could get to know me!" The other man declared as he quickly stood up, hissing not a moment later due to his knee. "You could get to know me, Gee. I'll show you everything, I'll- I'll let you in on my secrets, my fears, my hopes, helplessness, romance, affections, desires, wishes, Gerard just name it and I'll tell you." Frank took a step closer to the taller man as he desperately pleaded. Like hell he was letting him get away now.

"Intentions," Gerard said. It was the only word that he spoke and it fell cold from his lips, unlike anything he had said before. Frank stopped dead in his tracks, wide eyed much like a deer caught in headlights and started.

"Intentions?" He swallowed hard and shifted from foot to foot. Gerard noted that the tattooed man's eyes didn't dare fall on his own pair of hazel eyes. "I-I-I-I don't want you for sex if that's what you mean." He managed out. "It's the last thing- the last thing I'd bother asking for if ever. I," he looked up at Gerard and suddenly gained some confidence. Every word he has ever wanted to say suddenly came at him like a tidal wave, "want to woo you and play music for you. I want to sweep you off your feet and get to know you. I want to know you, Gerard Way, inside out. What cereal you love, what your favourite country is. I want to know what ridiculous time you wake up at or stay up to meet. I want to get to know who you are deep inside. Your worries, your sorrows... I want to make them mine and most importantly, I want to show you all the love I can possibly muster. I want to make you fall so deep in love that when you hit rock bottom, it'll be absolute bliss." He took Gerard hand gently in his, waiting for the elder to yank it away but the moment never came. "I want to show you how I can love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually do end notes or anything of the sort but I wanted to thank those who chose to pick up and read this mess of a story. Or what's to be a mess of a story. Either way, I hope you enjoy it and tag along for the ride because I'm excited to be writing it. It's an idea I had quite a while ago and it's blooming now. 
> 
> I have many ideas for it and it's actually pre planned! It's going to be a rollercoaster of emotions but it'll be a good ride. 
> 
> xoxoEv


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